I feel like I’m sorting through ancient archives here – although some of the bits and scraps of paper are in less than pristine condition. This is a little poem my dad used to recite to us, and then to his grandchildren. I guess the crust wasting thing is genetic. This paper looks like it’s been picked up by someone with greasy sticky fingers. Perhaps in the process of descretely discarding his toast crusts. It’s the kind of family heirloom that is definitely worth preserving. Sage parental advice passed down through the generations. Never mind ranting about starving kids in Africa. If you want your kids to do something they don’t want to do, scare the bejeesus out of them. If this poem fails to do that, at least you’ve made them laugh.
Last night I left a crust under my plate.
I thought nobody would see it there.
But, when it got dark and late
And I was all snugged in my bed,
I saw that very same old crust
Come creeping over my bed.
“Don’t you ever do that again!”
“I never will” I said.
“I’ll eat you up to the very last crumb
If you’ll only get down off my bed.”
9 thoughts on “My Crust”
I’ve always liked the crusts but know many who don’t. Thanks for sharing this remembrance! ~Susan
I guess I’m over it, since I now like to eat kids leftover pizza crusts….lol
LOL! We had crust problems for a while, but they went away on their own. I wish I would have known about this poem at the crux of the crust conundrum!
Another cursed crust conundum cured! 🙂
A nomination for you! http://wp.me/pTYEI-1nH
Thank you Susan! And thank you for your very kind and supportive comments. It means a lot to me to have you as a friend. 🙂
😉 Me too!
I googled “Last night I didn’t eat up my crust” and came to your blog. I was trying to find out who wrote the poem. My grandmother recited this too us all the time when I was a child, and I have a tattered piece of paper with the poem in her handwriting. There’s more to it if you were interested. where your poem ends it continues…. “So he jumped right down, and he disappeared. I searched for him early and late, but he comes no more, because I never , poke my crust in under my plate.”
thank you lis i have been trying to find the ending of this poem. this was a poem my best friend used to recite to my son. He tried to find it on line but could not find the complete poem. Sadly she passed away last week so he will be very happy that he now has the complete poem. He is 34 and told me he would like to have this poem so he can recite it to his children
she passed away last week.